A Recipe for Disaster
by CouslandSpitFire
Summary: Aífe Cousland's nickname as Spitfire has to come from somewhere, doesn't it? And really, in the end, it isn't her fault. Being a rogue means more than stealth and subterfudge. Sometimes it also involves explosions and bombs.


_**A Recipe for Disaster**_

"_Five leaves of stinging nettle,_

_Throw them all into the kettle;_

_Add toad's slime and spider's leg,_

_Mix well with a cranky snake's egg,_

_Ear of bat, raven's wing,_

_Wool of dog and hornet's sting;_

_For an hour on the fire,_

_Stir it with the greatest ire._

_Adder's tongue and blood of jackal,_

_Add for good measure an evil cackle._

_Stir and boil until the fire is diminished,_

_Clap three times and the broth is finished._"

She sang and danced around the flasks she was filling up with corrupter agent, shaking an already full one vigorously. A cup of pure fire crystal powder, grinded with her very own granite mortar, went into an empty flask, then that one was filled up, too. She closed the flasks with one hand, before she held the one she had shaken for several minutes now against the light. No signs of clumps of powder, so she carefully put it into the fitting over the fire to let it boil, taking the next flask to shake it.  
>"<em>Five leaves of stinging nettle, throw them all into the kettle<em>", she began to sing anew with hardly contained glee and took up the next flask, shaking it as she moved around the preparation table.

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Bryce Cousland loved his children. He did, he really did. Despite the fact that they made him age before his time. Mostly, they couldn't surprise him anymore. He knew, for example, that his darling daughter was chaos personified. Where she went, there was devastation, general puzzlement and mostly lots of embarrassment on her part. He didn't mind that. (Except when she ran over kings or nearly broke her own neck.) He also knew that she was unusual, because she liked her daggers far more than dresses, scoffed about Orlesian fashion trends and had annoyed him for almost half a year until he had allowed her to lead her first scouting mission. He didn't even mind that Eleanor told him on a regular basis that they would never marry her off.

(There wasn't anyone good enough for her anyways. She was better off staying at home.)

Sometimes he just wished, she would be a little less chaos. For starters, she could stop setting things on fire, especially in front of newly arrived guests whom her mother had invited with that special gleam in her eyes that told Bryce she had _plans_. He loved his daughter, he did. He could just do with less destruction.

His eyes rested on one of the straw dolls in the practice ground, that was mostly used for archery training and teaching sword techniques new recruits. Only that this one was aflame and thick clouds of smoke were ascending into the sky. Three young knights were standing on the far wall of the practice ground, looking distinctly uncomfortable as they watched the human-shaped doll burn like tinder. An arm fell off and one of the knights just could keep staring at it, almost unblinking.

"_Wohoooow_!", his dearest daughter let loose a jubilating cry that cut through the silence like a knife. A flask was sent flying through the air and crashed against a straw doll. The glass broke, little pieces raining down onto the floor with clangor, and the next doll burst into flames almost immediately. There was a flare of heat that he could feel even all the way over where he was standing, and then the first doll's head dropped of its makeshift body, rolling to the side. It was still smoldering and at least half the head was missing by then, but that only made it slightly more morbid. He was glad this one didn't have eyes painted onto its head.

"They are working! Do you see that? They are _awesome_!", came another cry and only then Bryce could make out a body somewhere in all the smoke, which was drifting this way and that in the wind. It took him only a moment to identify the body as belonging to his daughter, Aífe Cousland. She pumped her fists into the air excitedly as she did a little dance, her smile so bright that he could see it even through the still visible smoke-screen. Or maybe it looked even brighter, because her face seemed somewhat sooty. There was grime all over her skin, although only in spots and smears. There was an especially big one on her nose. Her happy laughter was such a stark contrast towards the obvious discontent of the knights standing near the wall, as far away from her as possible, that he could see Bann Teagan had to do a double-take to make sure he was seeing what he was seeing.

(Bryce understood. At the beginning, he often had to do that, too. Now he didn't even need to look once. If there was devastation, cringing knights and a hint of insanity it mostly involved his pup.)

Blond, tousled hair that was loosely tied into a bun. Gleaming grey eyes that were too preoccupied with watching the fruits of her labor to even notice him or Teagan. Yes. Definitely his pup.  
>Bryce threw his guest a sideways glance and saw that Teagan seemed to be trying to repress a broad grin. There was an obviously amused twitch of his lips that only grew when he made out the knights cowering in fear.<br>"Did you see that? The recipe works! Not only that, but if you boil them longer, then they are even more explosive! But not too long. If you boil them too long, they just explode by themselves", Aífe explained enthusiastically and sauntered over to the knights while wiping her hands on an old cloth. "What are you doing, ducking into the wall? It's a bomb, not a rabid mabari! You can try one out, if you want!"  
>The red-haired knight, whom Bryce recognized as Ser Gilmore, hastily shook his head and held up his hands. "No! I mean… No, thank you. I am really just here to watch. And… uhm.. get water. Just in case we need water", Ser Gilmore declined hastily and looked Aífe over carefully, probably trying to make sure she wasn't aflame herself.<br>"I take it your daughter is inventive as ever?", Teagan said with a chuckle and Bryce ripped his attention from her to look at the Bann. "I swear to you, that girl has made me age before my time", he answered with a sigh and rand a hand through his hair. "Surely you are being too hard on her. I have always known her as a kind and polite young lady", Teagan tried to defend her, albeit he was biting back an overly amused smile.

(Bryce had to give him credits for trying and probably for choosing such nice words. Aífe was polite and kind, it just so happened that she was also… well, herself.)

"I could do with less fire, though. Why do you think I have so many grey hairs at the tender age of 58?", Bryce answered him with a pained smile. By then Teagan couldn't resist any longer and started to laugh, genuine amusement dancing in his eyes. "She is a formidable young woman, Bryce, you can be proud of her", the younger man told him and Bryce shot him a sharp glance, trying to gauge whether there was some sort of hidden meaning behind those words. Teagan, however, had already turned to watch her trying to get some of the dirt from her face, still chuckling. "Not every father can claim that his daughter overwhelmed the king in quite such an unique way, after all", he added then and Bryce uttered a pained sigh. Of course Teagan would have heard of that incident, being Cailan's uncle.

(But then, Bryce was fine with that. As long as they didn't tell Isolde. If Isolde knew, all of Ferelden would know.)

"No, I suspect not every father can…", he admitted, not sure whether he should indeed look upon that fact as something positive. Then, finally, he walked towards her with Teagan following behind and she noticed his presence, turning to face him immediately.  
>"I hesitate to ask, Aífe…", Bryce began and couldn't take his eyes from the burning dolls, "But what exactly are you doing?" There was a desperate smile tugging on his lips and he had his arms crossed in front of his chest. Puzzled Aífe stopped in her tracks, looked at her father and then over her shoulder at the straw-puppet massacre. "Well, I tried my fire-bombs", she explained as though that should be fairly obvious.<p>

(Which it probably was. The question was based rather on disbelief than actual lack of understanding, but she had missed that point. She often did.)

"Fire-bombs?", Bryce asked carefully and cast a quick glance at the three knights, who still stood there, just watching. They almost looked like a group of little mice that had held a tasty buffet and then looked up to suddenly find themselves in the company of a very hungry owl. With grime all over it. Ser Gilmore winced when Aífe took another bottle into her hands and caressed it with her thumb. She was now close enough for Teagan to see that there were also black smears on her neck and down to her collarbones.  
>"Yes, the recipe is fairly easy and I thought I would try it out since we did have some fire crystals in the storeroom. I could make more and we could use them for training – that way the mabari might learn to net be too afraid of fire in case of a fight. And the soldiers could learn how to use them, I suppose. A thrown firebomb would certainly discourage a pack of wolfs from attacking", she suggested happily and Teagan thought he heard a faint "<em>Dear Maker, help us all<em>" from one of the knights.  
>Aífe suddenly turned then as she caught sight of him behind her father. She seemed shocked for a moment, but then she quickly turned to press the flask into Ser Gimore's hands, before she moved towards him with even more haste, bowing before him with her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Bann Teagan! What a pleasure to see you again", she greeted him and he couldn't help but smile, bowing to her himself.<p>

"I did not realize you had arrived at the castle, I apologize! I hope you had a pleasant journey and didn't encounter any problems?", she asked and laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her head. She cast a quick look towards her father, probably measuring whether he was mad at her or not.  
>"The pleasure is all mine, my Lady. There is no need to apologize at all, I had not announced my visit. The journey was quite enjoyable", he answered her. He could see out of the corner of his eyes, that the red-haired knight was holding the flask as far away from his body as humanly possible, while the one of the other two was carefully etching away with a bucket in his hand.<br>"Pup…", Bryce sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "Yes, Papa?", his daughter inquired with something that should probably be an innocent smile, but looked more guilty than anything else. "Where did you even get the recipe and the reagents?", he asked and she shrugged noncommittally. "Well, you told me that old Berwick knows a trick or two and that I could learn something from him, so I went to him and tried to talk. He's pretty grumpy, by the way. After an hour he gave me some recipes to try out and told me to… Well, basically to leave him alone by all that's holy on this world. So I tried the fire-bombs. They are easy to make, really", she assured her father.  
>"Except when they explode", Ser Gilmore muttered and Aífe shot him a dirty look. "They explode?", Bryce echoed and scowled, waiting for an explanation. "Only when they get too hot. Normally the fire crystals and the corrupter agent need to be intermixed and boiled, so they form a proper unit. I think Berwick said, there is some sort of chemical reaction. After that the liquid will catch fire if it comes in contact with air, almost like a little explosion. If it gets too hot, the glass gets cracks and then some air gets in, so it combusts. Just a little", she explained.<br>"How can something combust just a little?", her father demanded to know.  
>"Well, you see, technically…", she began, but he cut her off with a wave of his hand. "Did you get hurt?", he asked instead. She shook her head in a negative, but hid her hands behind her back. Teagan almost chuckled. The woman definitely needed to learn how to act less suspiciously. "Pup", Bryce simply said and she heaved a heavy sigh, showing him her hands. They were pretty dirty, but her left hand showed some angry red patches of skin and even one blister. There was a cut on one finger of her right hand, but that had long since stopped bleeding. Teagan winced when he caught sight of those injuries. Her father took her hands in his own and looked them over, sighing again.<p>

Aífe had already turned her attention back towards the knight holding the flask, one eyebrow raised at his antics. "Be at ease, Roland. The is perfectly safe, I assure you… I had just thought you might be open for new aspects of training." – "I'd simply prefer her Ladyship would stop playing with fire. Especially in the context of training. Especially if said training also involves me", Ser Gilmore muttered darkly without taking his eyes off the bottle in his hands.  
>Aífe scowled at him, her lips pressed together to a thin white line. "You just don't like it because it's something new", she told them and cringed when her father ran a finger over one of the burns. "You should not have done this on your own, it is dangerous, Pup. You could have gotten hurt", he reprimanded her, although his voice was too soft. "It is just a burn, Papa. I was very careful and followed the recipe to the letter – and for testing them, I even brought Roland, Aedan and Connar." Bryce wasn't deterred in the slightest by that and instead ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.<br>"Bann Teagan! Surely you can see the advantage of such bombs, yes?", she suddenly turned to Teagan for aid to his great surprise. "Far too few people are using them, but they can be a great advantage, especially against groups of enemies or when fighting animals. One fire bomb and you could dissuade a whole pack of wolfs from attacking! Less fighting, less wounds! How often have I heard that a mage can turn the tables in a fight, simply because he can throw fireballs or do something similar. With this, _we_ can throw fire-bombs! Or shock-bombs! Or acid-bombs! I imagine a bandit coated in a layer of fire will be very easily dissuaded from attacking further! And in truth, the fire doesn't last that long on skin or clothes. Well, that at least it isn't supposed to", she argued and pulled her hands from her father's so she could face Teagan. After overcoming his surprise, he chuckled and turned towards Bryce: "You might at least want to consider it. If Lady Aífe can make them you have easy access and it might turn out to be an advantage in skirmishes. It will certainly confuse the enemy." His backup brought him a genuinely thankful smile.  
>"Funny. When we came here you seemed to neglect these tactical observations and instead reveled in the devastation, destruction and general chaos these little things create", Bryce commented dryly. She answered with a sheepish smile, shrugging her shoulders. "Well, that's fun, too", she admitted. When she saw that her father was about to say something, she quickly took the bottle from the knight's hands and offered it to Teagan.<p>

"Don't you want to try it, my lord? Throwing non-magical fireballs? Wreaking havoc and fear? I promise it is safe, it only explodes upon impact!", she told him and for a moment he almost expected her to wiggle her eyebrows at him. "It is a chance you don't get very often, my lord! It's fun, really!", she increased her efforts when he slid a questioning glance towards her father. He could not help but chuckle as he took it from her, raising the flask to get a better look at the reddish liquid.  
>"Teagan, you don't need to humor her", Bryce said immediately with a headshake and put a hand on Aífe's shoulder, squeezing it warningly, but Teagan only smiled. "It does look very interesting – and I would be a hypocrite to say I wouldn't want to try them out", he admitted and Aífe laughed, following him forward as he adjusted his stance to throw the flask. It was not light, but had a good shape and could easily be held in one hand. He stroke out and threw it at one of the remaining dolls, which immediately burst into flames. The fire licked at the straw as little glass shards clattered to the ground. As the heat touched his face, he cast a sideways glance at Aífe, who seemed utterly delighted at the success of her work.<br>"Come now, Papa… You know you want to try it, too", she said then in a conspiratorial voice and turned to her father, who heaved a sigh, but moved to join them anyways. "Your mother must never know", he muttered and rolled up his sleeves, taking another of the flasks.

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**Author's Comment**: First of all: I hope you enjoyed this a little bit and found it a tiny bit entertaining. The mental images had me giggling while writing, especially brewing the bombs... And while the rhyme is really shitty, it fits Aífe. She wouldn't be able to rhyme if her life depended on it. And neither am I. LOL This has been sitting on my laptop for a long time and now I finally decided to upload it. I am sorry for any mistakes, I don't have a beta right now, so I'm not sure how many I overlooked despite reading through it several times. :/  
>In any case, all characters belong to Bioware and I hope I didn't mistreat them too much - save for Aífe, who is mine and has to withstand all maltreatment, regardless. *coughs*<p> 


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